* 

THE  SUSPENSE  OF  FAITH. 


AN  ADDRESS 


THE  ALUMNI  OF  THE  DIVINITY  SCHOOL 

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w.  '  u  •  p/> 

OF 

HARVARD  UNIVERSITY,  CAMBRIDGE,  MASS. 


GIVEN  JULY  19,  1S59. 


BY 

HENRY  W.  BELLOWS. 


NEW  YORK : 

C.  S.  FRANCIS  &  CO.,  554  BROADWAY, 
AND  53  DEVONSHIRE  STREET,  BOSTON. 

1859. 


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The  subject  I  propose  to  treat  at  this  time  is  large,  and 
will  stretch  your  patience ;  it  is  disputed,  and  will  need 
your  charity  ;  it  is,  in  some  measure,  new,  and  not  sure  of 
your  sympathy.  I  cannot,  perhaps,  introduce  it  better, 
than  by  confessing  the  difficulty  of  naming  it ;  and  the 
difficulty  is  intrinsic.  To  raise  a  question,  and  not  answer 
it;  to  object  to  what  exists,  and  present  nothing  better  ;  to 
start  a  discussion,  without  much  advancing  it,  is,  of  course, 
more  or  less,  to  beat  the  bush  without  being  able  to 
foretell  the  game.  And  yet,  how  can  a  Unitarian  Christian, 
amid  the  honest  antagonism  and  divergent  tendencies  of 
his  own  people,  treat  of  our  religious  times,  our  denomina¬ 
tional  experiences,  wants,  and  prospects,  with  candor  and 
largeness,  and  yet  claim  wholly  settled  convictions,  clear 
views,  and  a  fixed  policy  ?  Nay,  how  can  our  history, 
position,  and  future,  be  considered  at  all,  apart  from  the 
history,  position,  and  future  of  the  Protestant  era  itself: 
that  is  to  say,  without  a  consideration  of  the  mental  and 
ecclesiastical  attitude  of  the  nineteenth  century  ?  To  search 
out  the  characteristic  ideas,' positive  and  negative,  of  this 
epoch,  with  special  reference  to  the  good  or  evil  influence 
they  have  exerted  upon  our  own  faith  and  its  embodiment, 


(/ 


ON  HIST,  COLLECTION 


4 


is  what  I  undertake.  And  before  I  conclude  the  discussion 
of  my  theme,  I  shall  hope  to  justify  its  title,  which  is  this: 
— The  Suspense  of  Faith. 

Let  me  preface  what  I  have  to  say,  with  a  single  word 
more.  I  am  about  to  speak  of  tendencies ;  and  the  most 
liberal  exceptions  are  to  be  allowed  for,  in  favor  of  those 
who  resist  them.  I  am  about  to  enter  complaints  against 
what  I  could  spend  the  whole  time  in  praising,  and  yet 
leave  the  ground  of  these  complaints  as  solid  as  ever. 
Let  no  one,  then,  imagine  me  to  be  ungrateful  to  the 
services,  insensible  to  the  merits,  or  cold  to  the  fellowship 
of  the  Unitarian  Body,  or  the  Protestant  era,  because  my 
present  business  is  to  examine  their  defects.  If  I  criticize 
Unitarianism,  it  is  as  a  Unitarian  ;  or  Protestantism,  it  is 
as  a  Protestant.  If  I  show  the  wants  of  our  own  system, 
it  is  not  as  advocating  a  return  to  the  systems  we  have 
abandoned  ;  if  I  question  the  finality  of  Protestantism,  it  is 
not  in  the  interest  of  Pomanism ;  if  I  speak  in  the  language 
of  a  Churchman,  it  is  not  as  an  Episcopalian,  much  less  as 
one  aiming  at  the  re-establishment  of  a  hierarchy  ;  if  I  use 
some  tones  of  despondency,  and  point  to  some  clouds  big 
with  threats,  it  is  not  in  forgetfulness  of  the  everlasting 
bow  that  spans  the  storm  that  evokes  them.  I  place  this 
caveat  at  the  threshold  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  a  fatiguing 
caution  in  every  step  beyond  it. 

What,  then,  is  the  present  condition  of  our  Unitarian 
body  ?  Considered  numerically,  or  with  reference  to  social 
position  and  moral  influence — considered  relatively  to  its 
age  and  opportunities — considered  with  reference  to  any 
obstacles  to  its  spread  in  public  sentiment,  or  from  ex¬ 
ternal  quarters,  it  is  impossible  not  to  concede  to  it  a  fair 


5 


degree  of  prosperity.  There  was  never  less  reason  for 
despondency,  so  far  as  a  rivalry  with  other  religious  sects 
could  breed  it;  never  less  to  fear  from  the  arguments, 
the  exclusiveness,  or  the  reproaches  of  others.  Our  minis¬ 
ters,  churches,  charities,  public  gatherings,  manifestations 
of  all  sorts,  were  never  so  numerous  and  so  popular  as  at 
present. 

And  yet,  spite  of  increasing  numbers  and  increasing 
moral  vitality,  of  growing  earnestness  and  activity,  of 
larger  acceptance  and  easier  advance,  there  is  an  undeni¬ 
able  chill  in  the  missionary  zeal,  an  undeniable  apathy  in 
the  denominational  life  of  the  body;  with  general  pros¬ 
perity,  in  short,  there  is  despondency,  self-questioning,  and 
anxiety.  It  is  a  singular,  and,  to  many,  perhaps  an  unac¬ 
countable  phenomenon. 

What  is  the  explanation  of  it  ? 

It  will  be  found  in  a  consideration  of — 

I.  The  particular, 

II.  The  general, 

III.  The  universal,  Reason,  of  what,  in  the  course  of  this 
discussion,  will  show  itself  to  be  a  common  suspense  of 
faith. 

I.  Is  it  not  largely  due,  in  the  first  place,  and  particu¬ 
larly,  to  the  fact,  that  our  missionary  and  denominational 
work,  through  the  changed  aspects  of  the  theological 
world — the  decay  of  intolerance,  the  softening  of  the  cur¬ 
rent  creed  of  Christendom,  and  the  spread  of  mild  and 
practical  views  of  religious  duty — has  lost  much  of  its 
urgency  and  point  ?  Is  not  the  work  of  emancipating  the  ' 
community  from  bigotry  and  superstition,  so  much  more 
rapidly  and  successfully  carried  on  by  political  and  demo- 


6 


cratic  life,  literature,  and  the  public  press,  that  our  voca¬ 
tion  in  this  direction  is  mostly  gone?  Doubtless,  in  the 
newer  parts  of  the  country,  there  are  thousands  of  small 
communities,  where  the  polemic  instructions  of  the  Uni¬ 
tarian  pioneers  would  be  a  great  blessing  still ;  but  before 
such  wants  could  be  met  by  us,  they  are  so  sure  to  be  over¬ 
taken  by  more  general  influences — the  spirit  of  the  country, 
the  age,  and  the  Church, — that  we  instinctively  feel  the 
inexpediency  of  wasting  our  energies  upon  them.  The 
propagandism  of  Unitarian  ideas  is  essentially  paralyzed 
by  the  feeling  that  they  are  sowing  themselves  broadcast, 
not  in  the  formal,  but  the  essential  religious  thought  of  the 
country  and  the  time ;  and  the  indifference  to  increasing 
our  ministers  and  our  churches  is  very  much  due  to  the 
conviction  that  many  ministers  and  churches,  of  all  names 
and  orders,  are  now  doing  our  work,  if  less  directly,  yet 
more  thoroughly  than  we  could  do  it  ourselves. 

I  do  not  wish  to  take  this  first  position,  which  lays  no 

% 

claim  to  originality,  without  careful  discrimination.  It  is, 
otherwise,  liable  to  misconstruction,  and  justly  offensive, 
both  to  earnest  Unitarians,  as  disparaging  the  importance 
of  our  formal  controversy,  and  to  the  great  orthodox  public, 
as  a  boastful  calumny  upon  its  sincerity  and  actual  self- 
knowledge.  I  do  not  affirm,  therefore,  that  the  spirit  of 
the  age  and  the  providence  of  God,  are  making  the  world 
Unitarian,  in  the  sectarian  sense  of  that  word,  or  that  an 
inevitable  abandonment  of  those  formulas  of  the  Church 
against  which  we  have  openly  protested,  is  in  the  near,  or 
even  the  distant  prospect.  But  I  do  maintain,  that  the 
principles  and  sentiments,  the  rights  of  conscience,  the 
rationality  of  method,  the  freedom  of  inquiry,  the  practical 


7 


views  of  religion,  which  we  have  been  contending  for  under 
the  name  and  colors  of  our  Unitarian  theology,  are  under 
other  names  and  colors  so  rapidly  conquering  the  mind  of 
our  American  Christendom,  that  it  is  no  longer  felt  to  he 
necessary  to  maintain  a  stringent  denominational  organiza¬ 
tion  for  their  sake ;  and  thus  that  the  original  and  animat¬ 
ing  spirit  of  the  denomination  is  taken  away,  by  the  success 
of  the  principles  for  which  it  stood.  On  the  other  hand, 
while  not  prepared  to  claim  that  the  Unitarian  movement 
has  caused  this  general  advance,  or  that  its  present  position 
indicates  the  final  stand  of  the  Church,  I  believe  that  it  has 
providentially  led,  and  historically  signalized,  a  forward 
movement  of  the  whole  Protestant  body  ;  and  that  universal 
Christendom  will  heartily  own  in  due  time  the  urgent 
necessity  of  the  correlative  ideas  for  which  we  have  so 
boldly  stood.  I  thoroughly  believe  that  the  Trinitarian 
theology  of  the  historic  Church,  outworn  and  embarrassing 
now,  was  helpful,  because  relatively  true,  to  the  times  in 
which  it  arose ;  and  that  the  ideas  which  lay  in  the  minds 
of  the  authors  of  the  Athanasian  and  Uicene  Creeds — to 
emphasize  and  defend  which  against  the  swelling  and 
encroachment  of  other  and  mischievous  opinions  they 
erected  the  bulwarks  of  those  mighty  affirmations  and 
solemn  protests — were  essential  ideas ;  but  ideas,  which,  if 
they  add  any  thing  to  a  devout  and  scriptural  Unitarianism, 
(which  is  doubtful,)  contradict  nothing  in  it.  It  was  be¬ 
cause,  in  course  of  time,  the  heirs  of  those  creeds,  ignorant 
of  their  origin,  or  forgetful  of  their  purpose,  came  to  hold 
them  in  a  way  that  did  contradict  the  common  sense  and 
self-evident  principles  touching  God’s  sovereignty  and 
Fatherhood,  Christ’s  humanity  and  subordination,  and 


8 


Man’s  uprightness  of  nature,  which  Unitarianism  has  so 
triumphantly  vindicated  and  re-established,  that  our  mission 
became  imperative. 

Mazzini  lately  refused  the  programme  of  the  Allies, 
because  the  Piedmontese  government  substituted  the  unifi¬ 
cation  for  the  unity  of  Italy ;  thus  admitting  its  division 
under  different  rulers.  We  refused  and  refuted  the  pro¬ 
gramme  of  modern  Orthodoxy,  because  a  degenerate  Trini- 
tarianism  had  substituted  the  unification  for  the  Unity  of 
God.  The  Church  Universal  will,  in  due  time,  bless  us 
for  this  service  to  the  common  cause. 

No  view  of  ecclesiastical  history  is  respectable  which 
allows  much  place  to  self-will  in  the  origin  of  considerable 
sects  and  heresies,  still  less  in  the  grander  movements  of 
the  Church.  There  is  a  providential  necessity  in  the  rise, 
progress,  conflict  and  confluence  of  all  religious  bodies. 
As  our  Saviour’s  robe  was  parted  among  his  enemies,  so 
his  truth  is  divided  among  his  friends.  Sects  are  comple- 
mental  of  each  other,  and  none  of  them  are  any  thing  more 
than  relatively  right.  To  speak  of  Unitarianism  indepen¬ 
dently  of  Trinitarianism,  conveys  no  correct,  and  no  valu¬ 
able  ideas  ;  and  the  purely  denominational  theology  of  our 
bodv  has  no  worth  in  the  decline  of  the  errors  or  extrava- 
gancies  it  was  born  to  balance  or  compensate.  It  is  for 
this  particular  reason  that  we  are  now  experiencing  our  loss 
of  interest  in  it,  and  its  consequent  languor  as  a  missionary 
impulse. 

II.  But,  in  the  second  place,  to  come  to  the  general 

reason.  There  is  a  broader  view  to  be  taken  of  the  general 

•  * 

cause  of  the  pausing  posture  and  self-distrust  of  our  Body. 
Since  we  began  our  career,  a  fact  of  decisive  influence 


9 


upon  our  destiny  lias  unexpectedly  disclosed  itself.  The 
underlying  principles  and  sentiments  of  the  Unitarian  body 
have  turned  out  to  be  the  characteristic  ideas  and  tenden¬ 
cies  of  the  religious  epoch  we  live  in.  Protestantism  pro¬ 
duced  us,  not  we  it.  Whatever  is  good  or  bad  in  our  spirit 
and  direction,  was  latent  in  the  Reformation,  and  is  fast 
becoming  patent  in  the  whole  product  of  that  world- 
movement.  The  peculiar  identification  of  Protestant  tend¬ 
encies  with  our  special  theology  is  partly  accidental,  partly 
historical ;  the  tendencies  themselves  are  the  great  fact. 
Thus  no  criticism  of  Unitarianism  is  radical  which  is  not 
also  a  criticism  of  Protestantism  ;  nor  is  it  possible  to  un¬ 
derstand  our  position  and  prospects,  without  considering 
from  a  high  point  of  view  the  general  drift  of  Protestantism 
itself.  Our  eddy  or  rapid  is  to  be  explained  only  by  a  sur¬ 
vey  of  the  main  current ;  our  drought  or  freshet  only  by 
an  examination  of  the  common  water-shed.  If  I  say,  then, 
that  our  pause  as  a  denomination  is  the  pause  which  Pro¬ 
testantism  makes  on  awakening  to  the  full  consciousness  of 
her  own  tendencies,  I  shall  best  express  my  second  and 
most  important  idea. 

These  tendencies  have  only  recently  cleared  themselves 
to  view,  and  are  not  by  the  boldest  faced  without  some  con¬ 
cern.  Y et  it  is  best  to  look  them  full  in  the  front ;  to  ac¬ 
knowledge  them  for  just  what  they  are,  and  rely  upon  God 
and  the  truth  to  deliver  us  from  evil  at  their  hands.  Per¬ 
mit  me,  then,  for  the  moment,  to  state  in  unqualified,  and 
even  in  offensive  terms,  wThat  the  logical  product  of  Pro¬ 
testantism  is. 

If,  then,  with  logical  desperation,  we  ultimate  the  tend¬ 
encies  of  Protestantism,  and  allow  even  the  malice  of  its 


10 


enemies  to  flash  light  upon  their  direction,  we  may  see 
that  the  sufficiency  of  the  Scriptures  turns  out  to  be  the 
self-sufficiency  of  man,  and  the  right  of  private  judgment 
an  absolute  independence  of  Bible  or  Church.  No  creed 
but  the  Scriptures,  practically  abolishes  all  Scriptures  but 
those  on  the  human  heart ;  nothing  between  a  man’s  con¬ 
science  and  his  God,  vacates  the  Church  ;  and  with  the 
Church,  the  Holy  Ghost,  whose  function  is  usurped  by  pri¬ 
vate  reason :  the  Church  lapses  into  what  are  called  Reli¬ 
gious  Institutions ;  these  into  Congregationalism,  and  Con¬ 
gregationalism  into  Individualism — and  the  logical  end  is 
the  abandonment  of  the  Church  as  an  independent  institu¬ 
tion,  the  denial  of  Christianity  as  a  supernatural  revela¬ 
tion,  and  the  extinction  of  worship  as  a  separate  interest. 
There  is  no  pretence  that  Protestantism,  as  a  body,  has 
reached  this,  or  intends  this,  or  would  not  honestly  and 
earnestly  repudiate  it ;  but  that  its  most  logical  product  is 
at  this  point  it  is  not  easy  to  deny.  Nay,  that  these  are 
the  tendencies  of  Protestantism  is  very  apparent. 

Let  us  not  be  too  much  alarmed  at  this  statement,  as¬ 
suming  it  to  be  true.  Tendencies  are  not  always  ultimated. 
They  encounter  resistance.  They  meet  and  yield  to  other 
tendencies.  The  tendencies  of  an  epoch,  religious  or  politi¬ 
cal,  do  not  decide  its  whole  character.  There  are  forces  in 
humanity  stronger  than  any  epochal  powers — the  per¬ 
manent  wants,  the  indestructible  instincts  of  our  nature. 
It  is  safe,  and  it  ought  not  to  be  alarming,  to  see  and  con¬ 
fess  that  the  tendencies  of  political  and  religious  specula¬ 
tion  and  sentiment,  in  the  universal  Church  of  our  day,  are 
to  the  "weakening  of  the  external  institutions  of  Christianity, 
the  extinction  of  the  ministry,  and  the  abandonment  of  any 


11 


special  interest  in  religion,  as  a  separate  interest  of  man  or 
society.  If  our  Unitarian  body  understands  this  better  than 
the  inner  ranks  of  Protestantism,  it  is  only  because  the 
squadrons  behind  have  pressed  it  nearer  the  brink  towards 
which  they  are  unconsciously  advancing.  With  great  tem¬ 
porary  superiority  and  advantages,  one  over  another,  there 
is  really  nothing  to  choose  between  the  Protestant  sects  in 
general  direction,  and  ultimate  destinies ;  logically,  and 
what  is  more,  practically,  they  are  shut  up  to  one  conclusion. 
All  alike  in  this  respect,  they  represent  human  liberty,  self- 
assertion,  and  man’s  power  to  choose  and  enthrone  his  own 
God.  The  differences  between  them  are  chronological,  cir¬ 
cumstantial,  accidental ;  the  likeness  is  logical,  essential,  and 
absolute.  We  need  not  fancy  that  our  peculiar  theology  is 
responsible  for  the  latitudinarianism,  the  negation,  the  un- 
devotionality,  complained  of  in  the  Unitarian  body.  The 
same  qualities  belong  to  all  Protestant  sects,  to  the  degree 
in  which  their  culture  and  opportunities  establish  positive 
and  logical  relations  between  their  principles  and  their  cha¬ 
racters.  The  Unitarian  body,  not  as  being  more  learned  or 
more  thoughtful  than  other  Protestant  bodies  in  its  leaders 
and  ministry,  but  as  having  a  laity  on  the  same  intellectual 
level  with  its  leaders,  and  no  dead  weight  of  mere  instinct 
and  affection  to  drag  along  with  it,  has  carried  out  and  ex¬ 
perienced  in  its  denominational  life,  what  no  other  Protestant 
sect  has  yet  been  sufficiently  conscious  of  itself,  and  enough 
under  the  dominion  of  its  own  ideas  fully  to  experience. 
We  have  shown  the  world  the  finest  fruits  and  the  rankest 
weeds  of  the  Protestant  soil ;  we  have  most  freely  felt  and 
most  plainly  indicated  the  main  Protestant  current ;  and  the 
criticisms  we  have  suffered  from  our  Protestant  brethren 


12 


have  owed  much  of  their  edge,  to  the  anxiety  of  fellow-pas¬ 
sengers,  bitterly  upbraiding  the  officers  of  the  ship  because 
they  could  not  resist  the  force  of  the  stream  that  set  to¬ 
wards  the  rapids  and  the  precipice.  The  same  sympathy, 
taking  often  the  form  of  antipathy,  that  connects  the  conser¬ 
vative  and  historical  rank  of  our  own  body,  with  the  front- 
rank  of  avowed  rationalists,  connects  us  all,  as  the  front-rank 
of  Protestantism,  wTith  the  wdiole  body  behind ;  and  we  must 
pardon  the  severity  of  its  criticism  upon  us,  when  we  con¬ 
sider  that  it  is  an  unconscious  self-criticism — a  parent’s 
blame  of  the  hereditary  taint  it  has  communicated  to  its 
child. 

Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves  in  respect  to  the  tendencies 
of  Protestantism,  as  such,  by  crediting  it  with  the  resist¬ 
ance  which  is  constantly  made  to  its  logical  and  its  spir¬ 
itual  impulses,  by  tlie  permanent  instincts  of  humanity, 
or  by  the  still  unspent  force  of  past  epochs  of  a  diamet¬ 
rically  opposed  quality.  It  is  not  the  devout  and  virtuous 
class  which,  in  any  community  or  sect,  best  expresses  the 
animating  tendencies  of  the  time  and  place.  Catholic 
saints  do  not  properly  measure  and  represent  the  level  of 
Pomanism,  or  its  characteristic  influence  and  sentiments, 
but  rather  the  common  people  of  that  Church  any  and 
everywhere.  And  Unitarian  saints — of  whom,  thank  God, 
many  as  pure  and  noble  as  the  calendar  of  any  Church 
can  produce  have  shed  their  fragrance  upon  us  and  gone 
up  in  clouds  of  glory — do  not  exhibit  the  tendencies  of  our 
liberal  faith.  H or  is  it  the  religious  portion  of  Pro¬ 
testantism  that  shows  the  influence  of  Protestantism. 
Exceptional  and  marked  piety,  is,  in  all  Churches,  constitu¬ 
tional  ;  due  to  the  devout  nature  of  its  subjects,  independent 


13 


of  the  theological  opinions  or  the  special  era  and  circum¬ 
stances  with  which  it  is  associated.  Men  and  women,  pious 
by  nature,  are  pious  as  Heathen,  Jews,  or  Christians ;  as 
Catholics  or  Protestants ;  and  it  matters  little  under  what 
religious  influences  they  are  brought,  or  on  what  times  they 
fall.  The  religious  tendencies  of  an  era  are  indicated  satis¬ 
factorily  only  by  the  ideas  and  sentiments  that  sway  the  ✓ 
unthinking,  unspeculative,  unconscious  masses.  Ho  opin¬ 
ions  are  efficacious  over  society  at  large,  which  are  held  as 
opinions,  oi\  voluntarily  taken  up  and  inculcated.  We 
inculcate  opinions  for  the  benefit  of  future  generations,  in 
which  we  may  hope  they  will  appear  as  blessed  prejudices 
of  the  blood.  For,  as  a  rule,  it  is  only  ideas  from  which 
men  cannot  get  away,  sentiments  that  are  spontaneous, 
natural,  and  constant,  that  exert  any  shaping  and  decisive 
influence  over  them.  “  Opinion,”  says  Milton,  “  is  knowl¬ 
edge  in  the  making and  until  it  has  passed  the  stage  of 
intellectual  effort  and  conscious  will,  it  is  inoperative  to 
any  degree  worth  considering  in  a  large  view  of  things. 
If  we  would  know  the  religious  tendencies  of  our  Protestant 
age,  (for  I  deny  the  existence  of  any  living  Catholic  Church 
in  an  estimate  of  the  world-movements  of  the  time,)  we 
must  go  outside  the  Churches,  to  the  vast  population,  said 
to  be  much  more  than  half,  perhaps  three-quarters,  of  every 
considerable  community,  that  goes  to  Church  nowhere ;  we 
must  notice  the  deepening  hostility  of  all  States  to  established 
churches  ;  the  disjunction  between  science  and  faith,  litera¬ 
ture  and  theology ;  the  transference  of  the  faith  of  the 
people  from  the  church  to  the  school-house  ;  the  popularity 
of  all,  attacks  upon  the  clergy;  the  acceptance  and  eleva¬ 
tion  of  those  ministers,  understood  to  be  suspected  and  dis- 


V 


14  . 

countenanced  by  the  rest ;  the  open  and  extensive  sale  of 
infidel  books  ;  the  growing  use  of  the  Sabbath  for  recrea¬ 
tion — not,  as  abroad,  under  the  smile  of  the  Church,  but  in 
direct  contempt  of  its  frown  ;  the  easy  conscience  of  the 
people  in  the  profound  secularity  of  their  lives — indicating 
their  contentment  in  a  condition  of  alienation  from  religious 
relations  and  ideas  ;  the  frequency  of  suicide  ;  the  increasing 

laxity  of  the  marriage-bond ;  the  defence  of  scortatory  love — 

* 

all  marked  indications  of  the  decay  of  religious  ideas ;  the 
peculiar  interest  attached  to  preaching  in  contradistinction 
to  worship,  and  the  necessity  of  keeping  together  the 
church-going  class  by  the  extra  allurements  of  gifted 
speech  ;  the  general  inculcation  of  morality  on  utilitarian 
grounds ;  the  excellence,  as  citizens  and  neighbors,  of  an 
avowedly  irreligious  class ;  the  popular  and  applauded 
hostility  of  the  philanthropy  of  the  day  to  the  Churches — 
the  most  accomplished  orators  of  the  times,  being  high- 
toned,  virtuous,  respected  men,  and  virulent  assailants  of 
the  religious  creeds  and  customs  and  institutions  of  the 
community ;  the  existence  of  a  vast  and  governing  class  in 
this  country,  felt  in  all  our  elections,  and  more  and  more 
shaping  our  institutions,  with  whom  not  only  is  the  higher 
law  in  its  refined  form  unknown,  but  whom  religious  con¬ 
siderations  of  any  kind  seem  to  sway  not  at  all ;  so  that 
an  infidel,  as  such,  would  not  perhaps  stand  a  poor  chance 
as  a  candidate  for  the  presidency.  I  do  not  forget  that 
religious  or  sectarian  prejudices  exert  a  considerable  influ¬ 
ence  in  our  politics.  But  when  wre  remember  how 
numerous  and  powerful  the  great  religious  sects  in  our 
country  are,  it  becomes  still  more  striking  to  think  how  large 
must  be  the  body  of  citizens,  without  religious  prejudices, 


15 


that  is,  for  the  masses,  without  religious  ideas ,  when  they 
are  the  regular  reliance  of  the  democratic  (which  is  the  log¬ 
ical)  party,  in  all  our  great  elections.  I  call  it,  then,  an  un- 
religious  age — I  do  not  say  irreligious,  for  that  implies  active 
opposition  to  religion  ;  not  a  bad,  or  an  immoral,  or  a 
discouraging,  or  a  wicked  age — better,  doubtless,  on  the 
whole,  and  in  respect  of  the  general  interests  of  society, 
than  any  that  has  preceded  it — but  nevertheless  character¬ 
istically  an  unreligious  age — despite  its  philanthropy  and 
its  throes  of  sectarian  piety,  its  rights  of  man,  and  its  self- 
complacency  toward  God. 

Nor  is  this  all.  It  is  not  only  an  unreligious  age,  but  it 
is  becoming  more  and  more  unreligious.  For  religious 
institutions  and  ideas  in  our  day  flourish  mainly  in  the 
strength  of  their  roots  in  a  religious  past,  a  strength  which 
is  constantly  diminishing.  As  respect  for  rank  in  England, 
the  remnant  of  an  honest  aristocratic  system  ages  in 
power,  is  the  wholesome  vis  inertice  which  prevents  the 
democratic  instincts  of  the  age  in  that  country  from  hurry¬ 
ing  precipitately  to  their  inevitable  goal,  so  the  genuine 
religiousness  of  ages  gone  by,  whose  flavor  lingers  in  our 
blood,  is  the  most  vigorous  support  the  worship  of  this  age 
enjoys.  Whatever  public  nourishment  besides,  distinctive 
and  essential  religion  has  in  our  generation,  is  due  to  the  ex¬ 
ceptional  devoutness  of  spirits  born  out  of  due  time,  and  to 
the  esprit  de  corps  so  characteristic  of  the  day — the  love  of 
joint  action,  the  fondness  for  educational,  moral  and  ethical 
institutions,  the  emulation  of  communities  with  each  other, 
the  partisan  rivalry  of  sects,  and  the  fact  that,  under  the 
name  of  religious  institutions,  we  sustain  a  vast  and  valu¬ 
able  system  of  adult  education*  in  thought,  humanity  and 


16 


manners.  Our  churches,  to  a  great  extent,  and  constantly 
more  and  more  so,  are  lecture-foundations — in  which  the 
interest  is  less  and  less  religious,  more  and  more  political, 
social  and  ethical.  The  one  thing  the  people  are  interested 
in  is  life,  themselves,  each  other,  and  the  relation  of  the  in¬ 
side  to  the  outside — of  man  to  his  dwelling,  of  man  to  man, 
of  man  to  himself.  To  make  a  religion  out  of  self-respect, 
right-living,  self-culture — to  insist  that  aspiration  is  wor¬ 
ship,  that  truth  is  God,  that  goodness  is  religion — is  the 
highest  ambition  of  our  modern  pulpit.  I  do  not  say  it  in 
blame,  nor  in  scorn  ;  for,  under  the  circumstances,  it  is  an 
honorable  ambition,  laid  upon  men  by  the  necessity  of  jus¬ 
tifying  their  own  faith  to  themselves.  God  is  too  sacred  a 
word  to  be  lost  out  of  the  language ;  worship  too  holy  a 
thing  not  to  be  held  on  to  on  some  pretence  or  other ; 
piety  too  profound  and  indestructible  an  instinct  to  be 
abandoned  ;  and  therefore  the  political  and  social  idealism 
of  our  age  clothes  itself  in  religious  phraseology  and  forms, 
out  of  an  honest  respect  for  the  past,  a  sincere  self-delusion, 
and,  what  is  best  of  all,  under  an  instinctive  ora  providential 
guidance.  But  to  say  that  the  animating  and  characteris¬ 
tic  quality  of  the  American  people  of  the  nineteenth  cen¬ 
tury  is  religion,  worship,  faith,  or  that  whatever  is  theo¬ 
logical  and  ecclesiastical  in  jour  terms  and  usages  repre¬ 
sents  a  living  spirit,  and  not  a  revered  memory,  is  more 
than  a  just  discrimination  will  allow.  On  the  contrary,  the 
science,  philosophy  and  literature  of  the  day  are  busily  en¬ 
gaged  in  creating  substitutes  for  religion — and  authorizing 
the  continuance  of  the  names  and  forms  and  symbols  of 
worship  and  faith,  after  asserting,  in  more  or  less  obvious 
language,  the  irrelevancy  of  the  things  themselves. 


17 


When  the  Head  of  an  American  University,  from  whom 
I  had  the  anecdote,  inquired  of  a  professor  in  Berlin,  what 
Humboldt  would  probably  answer,  if  asked  what  was  his 
religious  faith  ? — He  said,  his  reply  would  probably  be  :  “I 
am  of  the  religion  of  all  men  of  science.” 

Doubtless  he  meant  what  the  lively  Frenchman,  the  ex¬ 
cellent  Catholic!  who  has  just  treated  the  Roman  question, 
means,  when  he  says  in  praise  of  the  Bolognese  as  com¬ 
pared  with  the  Romans,  “  They  know  all  that  we  know ; 
they  believe  all  that  we  believe,  and  nothing  more.” 

We  owe  a  recognition  to  the  actual  and  serious  faith  of 
science  in  our  day.  While  Oersted,  Whewell  and  Hugh 
Miller,  and  names  nearer  home,  are  remembered,  wTe  are  not 
likely  to  forget  our  respect  for  the  union  of  science  and  faith. 

Yet  the  actual  weakness  of  positive  faith  is  visible  in 
nothing  so  much  as  in  the  eager  welcome  yielded  by  the 
professed  friends  of  Christianity  to  any  succor  which  the  sci¬ 
ence  or  literature  of  the  day  may  see  fit  to  bestow,  in  char¬ 
ity,  upon  the  Church.  The  times,  indeed,  are  changed,  since 
science  and  literature  were  humble  suppliants  at  the  Church- 
gate,  asking  her  permission  to  set  up  their  conclusions  within 
her  palings ;  and  now  religion  is  thankful  if  geology,  scorn¬ 
fully  passing  by,  does  not  throw  her  hammer  at  her  head, 
and  literature  lampoon  her  in  her  own  pulpit. 

I  have  been  speaking,  you  will  observe,  not  wholly,  yet 
mainly,  of  tendencies ;  and  tendencies  may  be  dangerous 
and  extravagant,  and  yet  necessary  and  providential — a 
wholesome  reaction  upon  other  tendencies  still  more  alarm¬ 
ing.  There  have  been  perilous  tendencies  to  excess  of 
ritual  and  positive  religion  in  Oriental  regions,  in  past 
eras,  ending  in  paralysis  of  the  private  will,  and  deteriora- 
2 


18 


tion  of  humanity.  At  times,  even  in  the  Christian  world, 
there  has  been  too  much  worship,  too  constant  and  formal 
a  reference  to  God’s  will  to  admit  of  a  proper  degree  of 
human  freedom.  You  will  not  understand  me,  then,  as 
generally  questioning  the  merits  of  the  age  we  live  in,  by 
calling  it  an  unreligious  age,  or  as  disparaging  Protestant¬ 
ism,  as  if  it  had  not  been,  and  were  not  still,  until  honestly 
exhausted,  a  valuable  and  indispensable  movement.  And 
for  a  psychological  reason  of  the  utmost  importance,  to  ex¬ 
plain  which  is  the  third  step  in  our  journey.  I  have  shown, 
first,  the  particular,  and  next,  the  general  historical  reason 
of  the  pause  of  faith ;  I  wish  now  to  set  forth  the  still 
more  fundamental  or  psychological  reason  of  this  pause — 
the  universal  reason. 

III.  There  are  two  motions  of  the  spirit  in  relation  to  God, 
his  Creator  and  upholder,  essential  to  the  very  existence  of 
generic  or  individual  Man — a  centrifugal  and  a  centripetal 
motion — the  motion  that  sends  man  away  from  God,  to 
learn  his  freedom,  to  develope  his  personal  powers  and  facul¬ 
ties,  relieved  of  the  over-awing  and  predominating  presence 
of  his  Author ;  and  the  motion  that  draws  him  back  to  God, 
to  receive  the  inspiration,  nurture,  and  endowment,  which 
he  has  become  strong  enough  to  hold.  For  man,  though  a 
creature  of  faculties,  is  still  more  characteristically,  a  crea¬ 
ture  of  capacities ;  and  his  capacities  must  be  developed 
before  they  can  be  filled — his  vessel  shaped  before  it  can 
go  to  the  fountain.  He  must  have  freedom  before  he  can 
yield  obedience ;  he  must  possess  a  will  before  he  can  sur¬ 
render  it ;  affections,  trained  to  love  visible  objects,  before 
they  can  love  the  unseen  Source ;  intellectual  and  moral 
independence,  to  make  his  loyalty  significant,  and  his 


19 


service  blessed.  Accordingly,  tlie  origin  and  history  of 
the  race  exhibits  the  care  with  which  God  has  hidden  him¬ 
self  away  from  his  creatures  in  the  infancy  of  their  exist¬ 
ence,  lest  they  should  be  scorched  and  shrivelled  in  the 
glory  of  his  presence.  And  yet  his  whole  purpose  is  to 
create  a  race  that  can  live  in  his  conscious  society,  without 

« 

losing  their  individuality  and  freedom  in  gaining  his  inspi¬ 
ration  and  guidance.  The  whole  vexed  question  of  the  tar¬ 
diness  of  the  great  Dispensations,  and  of  the  necessity  of 
Revelation  itself,  is  to  be  solved  only  in  the  light  of  this 
law,  the  sistole  or  disastole,  or  double  motion  of  our  spirits. 
Man  is  not  made  acquainted  with  God  by  nature,  and  God 
does  not  come  into  his  earliest  stages  of  existence  with 
distinctness,  because  spiritual  creation  must  precede  spirit¬ 
ual  salvation.  The  first  man  is  of  the  earth,  earthy;  the 
second  man,  is  the  Lord  from  heaven :  the  first  Adam  was 
created  a  living  soul ;  the  second  Adam  a  quickening 
spirit.  Man’s  creation  is  not  complete  at  his  birth,  but  con¬ 
tinues  on  in  his  development  as  an  intellectual  and  moral 
being;  and  this  development  is  primarily  more  important 
than  the  use  to  which  his  faculties  are  put ;  as  the  life, 
health,  and  growth  of  our  children  are  more  important  than 
any  thing  they  can  do  for  us,  or  any  affections  they  mani¬ 
fest  towards  us,  in  their  infancy  and  youth.  If  wTe  view  the 
history  of  the  race  in  a  comprehensive  way,  we  shall  ob¬ 
serve  that  it  has  been  providentially  occupied  in  all  its 
earlier  eras  with  itself,  establishing  what  may  be  called  its 
self-hood ;  and  that  what  is  termed  natural  religion — which 
is  only  an  inverted  self-worship,  in  which  man  makes  his 
own  deity  to  suit  his  tastes  and  feelings,  and,  of  course,  does 
not  make  him  too  strong  for  his  own  self-will — is  then  the 


20 


only  witness  of  the  living  God — a  witness  so  meek,  as  not 
to  interfere  with  the  providential  process  of  setting  man  np 
in  his  own  right  and  liberty.  Revealed  religion — the  only 
religion  that  ever  has  had  authority,  or  which,  by  the  nature 
of  the  case,  can  have  power  to  awe,  restrain,  and  elevate 
man,  or  to  overcome  the  congenital  bias  of  his  nature — 
being  something  outside  of,  and  independent  of  his  person¬ 
ality — has  necessarily  been  subsequent  to  his  creation  ; 
confined  to  special  representative  races  and  eras ;  and  has 
applied  itself  through  the  slow  form  of  institutional  influ¬ 
ences,  in  order  to  gain  a  greater  power  in  the  end,  because 
over  a  more  freely  and  fully  developed  being,  surrendering 
himself  voluntarily  to  a  control  which  enlarges  his  true 
freedom,  and  accepting  a  liberty  in  divine  dependence,  of 
which  his  previous  independence  has  been  only  a  fictitious 
foreshadowing. 

Thus,  taking  in  all  history,  we  may  consider  the  educa¬ 
tional  orbit  of  the  race,  as  completing  itself  under  natural 
and  revealed  religion,  as  its  centrifugal  and  centripetal 
forces  ;  natural  religion  being,  as  I  have  said,  in  its  last 
analysis,  self-worship — and  of  course  intensely  favorable  to 
self-assertion,  individuality,  and  self-development,  or  alien¬ 
ation  from  God  as  a  necessary  preparation  for  the  worship 
of  God  in  the  end — and  revealed  religion,  being  the  essen¬ 
tial  condition  of  emancipation  from  self  and  connection 
with  God,  as  a  power  outside  of  and  independent  of  man — 
or,  God  coming  to  possess,  and  fill,  and  occupy  the  soul  he 
has  been  making  for  his  dwelling. 

But  within  the  domain  of  revealed  religion,  and  in 
Christendom,  the  same  centrifugal  and  centripetal  forces 
continue  to  act ;  of  course  under  the  modifying  influences 


21 


of  revelation.  Here,  the  World  represents  the  centrifugal, 
the  Church  the  centripetal  force ;  the  world  upholding, 
asserting,  and  defending  Humanity,  its  freedom,  the  unim¬ 
peded  play  of  its  tastes  and  faculties  and  desires — favoring 
the  development  of  the  utmost  energy,  enterprise,  and 
individuality ; — the  Church  steadily  denouncing  humanity, 
as  depraved,  corrupt,  unclean,  partial,  condemned  —  its 
freedom,  license ;  its  independence,  rebellion ;  its  only 
hope  and  salvation  in  and  from  God.  Thus  the  world,  and 
the  Church,  notwithstanding,  or  rather  because  of  this 
disagreement,  has  each  had  truth  on  its  side,  and  each 
been  performing  indispensable  duties — one  making  man, 
and  the  other  saving  him  ;  one  giving  him  a  Being  to  be 
saved ,  and  the  other  putting  salvation  into  his  being — one 
making  him  “a  living  soul,”  the  other,  “a  quickening 
spirit,”  The  world,  and  that  portion  of  the  Church,  which 
has  been  with  the  world  in  this  quarrel,  has  been  mainly 
right  in  asserting  the  dignity  and  rectitude  of  human 
nature  ;  the  Church  mainly  right  in  asserting  the  destitute¬ 
ness  and  depravity  of  human  nature — for  one  looked  at 
man  with  reference  only  to  his  faculties,  the  other  with  ref¬ 
erence  only  to  his  destii^.  One  looked  at  him,  as  a  vessel 
of  honor,  in  the  shape  originally  given  it  by  his  creator, 
finished  and  perfect ;  the  other  as  a  vessel,  empty  and  wait¬ 
ing  for  a  divine  fullness,  which  should  prove  its  true 
ennobling.  There  was  nothing  inconsistent  in  these  ideas. 
Both  were  true — and  each  did  injustice  to  the  other’s  real 
meaning,  but  not  to  the  other’s  terms — and,  greatly  as  the 
earnest  discussion  touching  the  import  and  the  fitness  of 
the  phrases  used  to  convey  the  ideas  of  these  opposite  parties 
was  needed  to  clear  up  the  real  truth,  we  can  afford  now  to 


9  9 

w  w 


drop  it,  if  prepared,  on  both  sides,  to  acknowledge  the  half¬ 
ness  of  our  antagonistic  statements. 

And  within  the  Church,  as  well  as  within  Christendom, 
these  two  forces  have  been  at  work,  under  the  names  of 
Romanism  and  Protestantism  ;  Romanism  representing  the 
centripetal  force  of  Christianity,  Protestantism  the  -centri¬ 
fugal  ;  Romanism  standing  for  external  or  divine  authority, 
Protestantism  for  internal  liberty  and  individual  freedom  ; 
Romanism  representing  God’s  condescension  to  man,  Pro¬ 
testantism  man’s  aspiration  toward  perfection  ;  Romanism 
leading  to  worship,  Protestantism  to  work.  But  there  is 
no  doubt  that  Romanism,  merely  as  a  religion,  fulfilled  its 
function  more  perfectly  than  Protestantism,  whose  main 
services  have  not  been  to  religion,  but  directly  to  humanity, 
and  to  religion  only  indirectly.  bTot  that  her  influences 
were  not  vastly,  nay,  indispensably  necessary,  even  to  the 
ultimate  triumphs  of  faith ;  but  they  have  not  been  in  the  ' 
wTay  of  bringing  man’s  soul  more  under  the  idea  or  the 
inspiration  and  sway  of  God,  but  rather  of  conscience,  and 
intellect,  and  will — a  magnificent  development  of  human 
faculties  and  powers — but  not,  as  experience  proves,  ade¬ 
quate  to  the  religious  wants  of  man ;  to  the  peace  and  rest 
of  the  soul,  the  nurture  of  the  sweet  and  unselfish  affections 
of  the  Gospel.  ^ 

Is  it  not  plain,  then,  that  as  Protestants  of  the  Protestants, 
we  are  at  the  apogee  of  our  orbit ;  that  in  us  the  centrifugal 
epoch  of  humanity  has  for  this  swing  of  the  pendulum,  at 
least  reached  its  bound.  For  one  cycle  we  have  come,  I 
think,  nearly  to  the  end  of  our  self-directing,  self-asserting, 
self-developing,  self-culturing  faculties  ;  to  the  end  of  our 
honest  interest  in  this  necessary,  alternate  movement.  We 


23 


see  it  to  be  so  well  established  in  Protestantism  at  large, 
that  it  does  not  need  our  leadership — that  it  is  sure  to  do 
its  work  and  complete  its  oscillation  independently  of  us. 
And  we  are  very  weary  of  the  toil  it  has  thrown  upon  us ; 
the  speculation,  inquiry,  and  self-sustaining  energy  we 
have  put  forth  under  its  compulsion.  Moreover,  having 
enlarged  our  faculties,  we  want  a  use  for  them ;  having 
achieved  our  freedom,  we  know  not  what  to  do  with  it ; 
having  cultivated  our  wills,  consciences,  and  intellects  to 
the  utmost  at  present  possible,  they  cry  out  for  objects  that 
they  do  not  find.  And  this  is  the  painful  pause — this  the 
suspended  animation,  seen  and  felt  throughout  Christen¬ 
dom — especially  throughout  Protestant  Christendom — and 
more  particularly  throughout  our  own  more  Protestantized 
province  of  the  Church.  Why  is  it  that  the  moment  we 
find  ourselves  in  possession  of  men,  whom  genius,  character, 
and  scholarship  fit  to  lead  us  in  our  logical  career  to 
new  victories  and  the  extension  of  our  faith,  they  almost 
uniformly  become  paralyzed  by  doubts  and  scruples,  and 
lose  their  interest  in  the  progress  they  might  assure  ?  It 
is  simply  because  the  small  elevation  which  gives  them 
command  of  us,  reveals  to  them  the  absence  of  any  more 
road,  in  the  direction  we  have  been  going.  Hot  brave 
enough,  or  quite  clear  enough,  to  announce  this,  they  allow 
themselves  to  seem  smitten  with  sudden  indifference  to 
their  former  interests,  and  leave  the  rank  and  file  to 
blunder  on  and  find  out  the  truth  for  themselves.  Of  later 
years  this  has  been  our  almost  constant  experience  as  a 
body.  The  moment  we  have  given  our  faith  to  our  leaders, 
that  moment,  without  changing  their  allegiance  or  opinions, 
they  have  lost  their  own  faith  in  themselves  and  our  cause. 


24 


Of  course  this  state  of  tilings  lias  been  attended  with  other 
results.  Not  a  few,  less  conscious  of  the  unrest,  weariness,  and 
dissatisfaction  of  ultra-protestantism,  have  pronounced  the 
recoil  upon  it  they  began  to  notice  a  servile  and  dangerous 
retrogradation,  and,  to  resist  it,  have  rushed  on,  reckless  of 
consequences,  into  a  still  bolder  self-assertion.  Like  the 
new  war-rocket,  which,  having  expended  its  first  force, 
lights  with  its  last  ember  a  fresh  fuse  that  propels  another 
projectile  far  beyond  the  place  where  it  falls  itself,  Pro¬ 
testantism,  which  has  exhausted  its  own  orbit,  flings  off 
into  space  its  eccentric  particles,  henceforth  to  be  contented 
with  a  geocentric,  not  a  heliocentric  revolution.  Thus  the 
school  of  Mill  and  the  secularists  abroad,  and  the  Emer¬ 
sonian  and  transcendental  school  at  home,  acknowledge 
only  one  true  movement  in  humanity — the  egoistic — the 
self-asserting  and  self-justifying  movement — which  is  Pro¬ 
testantism  broken  loose  from  general  history,  taken  out  of 
its  place  in  the  providential  plan,  and  made  the  whole,  instead 
of  the  part.  Toward  this  position  we  have  of  necessity 
continually  tended,  and  into  this  many  of  our  bravest  and 
best  spirits  have  gone  to  dwell,  and  all  of  them  have  been 
to  visit.  And  now  that  the  ecclesiastical  leaders  of  ultra- 
protestantism  begin  to  be  anxious  to  turn  their  forces,  not 
back,  but  round  and  up,  we  may  expect  to  see  literary 
and  secular  leaders  arise  wdio  will  have  none  of  their 
scruples,  because  little  of  their  experience,  and  who  will 
press  on  and  inspirit  the  flagging  ranks — that  for  a  time 
may  take  new  courage  in  the  hearing  of  fresh  and  cheery 
voices,  and  seem  to  themselves  to  have  great  victories 
before  them  in  the  old  field.  Science,  art,  and  culture  will 
place  themselves  in  the  van,  which  the  Church  lately  held 


25 


but  now  deserts — and  there  are  not  a  few  who  do  not  quite 
say,  but  hint  clearly  enough  to  be  understood  by  the  wise, 
that  the  Church  of  the  future  will  be  the  diffusion  of  a  , 
universal  intelligence,  in  which  natural  laws  shall  take  the 
place  of  bibles  and  prayer-books,  and  Science  and  Art  be 
the  high  and  only  priests. 

If,  however,  universal  history  is  to  be  heeded,  if  the 
great  common  instincts  of  humanity  are  prophetic,  if 
religion  .be  the  earliest  and  latest,  the  deepest  and  the 
highest  interest  of  man,  then  we  may  trust  that  the  sense  of 
want,  the  yearning  for  rest,  the  longing  for  legitimate 
authority,  the  expectation  of  relief,  the  general  feeling 
throughout  the  devouter  portion  of  Protestantism  of  dissat¬ 
isfaction  with  the  existing  attitude  of  things,  with  a  secret 
faith  that  God  or  Christ  is  about  to  interpose  for  its  relief, 
indicates  the  conception — I  do  not  say  the  birth — of  a  new 
religious  epoch,  to  be  distinguished  as  much  by  faith,  as 
the  last  has  been  by  doubt — an  epoch  in  which  the  temple 
that  man  has  been  building  and  beautifying  shall  be  occu¬ 
pied  by  its  Lord — in  which  the  passive  side  of  humanity 
shall  enjoy  its  long-neglected  rights;  and  when,  instead  of 
seeking  God  as  the  solar  system  is  seeking  the  star  Aries 
in  the  constellation  Hercules,  He  shall  seek  us,  as  the 
shepherd  in  the  parable,  leaving  the  ninety  and  nine  of  the. 
flock,  sought  the  lost  lamb  and  folded  it  in  his  arms  ;  and 
in  place  of  self-assertion,  self-abnegation  and  life  in  God, 
shall  again  become  the  type  of  human  experience. 

Even  the  intimations  of  the  destructive  philosophy  of  the 
positivists,  which  ends  in  a  ritual  of  worship,  and  the  ap¬ 
plication  of  the  Hamiltonian  metaphysics  to  orthodoxy, 
wdiich  puts  the  reason  of  religion  as  the  mean  product  of 


26 


two  extremes  of  absurdity,  seem  to  be  lending  unwilling 
testimony  to  the  same  yearning  for  a  settled  and  external¬ 
ized  faith. 

Who  can  believe,  or  who,  intimately  acquainted  with  the 
inner  life  of  this  age,  desires  to  believe,  that  the  nineteenth 
century,  however  important  in  its  place,  is  to  be  indefinitely 
continued  ?  Or  that  the  spirit  and  temper  of  this  inventive, 
bustling,  irreverent,  and  self-asserting  time,  is  to  govern  the 
whole  future ;  a  time  in  which  knowingness,  curiosity,  wit, 
covetousness,  and  publicity,  external  accomplishments,  arts, 
and  achievements,  have  so  largely  taken  the  place  of  the 
deeper  passions  and  richer  experiences  of  the  soul ;  and  in 
which  conjugal  love,  parental  care,  filial  reverence,  domes¬ 
tic  quietude,  true  friendship,  spiritual  art,  poetic  imagina¬ 
tion,  and  private  peace,  seem  so  lamentably  in  abeyance. 
Plan’s  body,  tasked  by  this  quick  time,  is  furrowed  with 
the  lash,  and  begs  for  mercy ;  his  nerves  have  come  to  the 
surface  with  the  unnatural  strain ;  his  spirits  fagged,  or 
unduly  stimulated,  send  him  moping  or  maudlin  to  the 
mad-house,  or  dig  him  an  early  grave.  Meanwhile  his 
proud  work  is  to  moor  the  hemispheres  side  by  side  with 
his  metallic  cable ;  to  decant  the  oceans  with  the  syphon 
of  his  Isthmus  canal;  or  to  swallow  the  continent  when  he 
flings  toward  the  Pacific  his  iron  rod.  His  insolent  pleas¬ 
ure  is  to  dance  over  dread  Niagara  on  the  showman’s 
rope,  or  to  hang  above  it  in  the  slippery  clouds,  till  he 
dwindles  it  to  a  ripple.  His  architecture,  gay  with  emula¬ 
tive  cost,  covers  cheerless  homes ;  his  churches,  splendid 
with  sectarian  rivalry,  shelter  unworshipping  hearts.  His 
philanthropic  assemblies,  crowded  and  frequent,  breathe 
violence  and  hatred,  while  they  advocate  the  rights  of 


27 


man,  and  rebuke  the  Church  in  the  tones  of  Mephistopheles. 
An  age,  that  has  to  be  busy  to  save  itself  from  knowing 
its  own  destitution  !  to  which  leisure  is  a  burden  and 
solitude  a  calamity !  What  is  there  that  we  can  desire  to 
see  perpetuated  in  the  peculiar  spirit — I  do  not  say  in  the 
institutions,  achievements,  or  victories — of  an  age  like 
this  ?  And  when  this  spirit  which  now  animates  the 
highest  and  most  influential  classes  of  society,  and  pro¬ 
duces  the  self-criticism,  the  disintegrating  individualism, 
the  pride  that  kills  hospitality,  and  the  strain  of  social  emu¬ 
lation  which  makes  elegant  fortresses  of  men’s  homes ;  the 
esoteric  want  behind  the  exoteric  abundance ;  when  the 
cold  polish,  the  brilliant  surface,  the  dead  enthusiasm  of 
the  best  and  most  characteristic  products  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  come  to  strike  downwards  and  to  be  seen  in  con¬ 
nection  with  the  inferior  culture,  the  more  vulgar  tastes, 
the  coarser  grain  of  the  masses,  as  they  surely  will,  we 
may  then  perhaps  discover  the  origin  of  the  alarming 
symptoms  of  our  national  life,  its  vulgar  credulity,  and  as 
vulgar  infidelity,  its  denial  of  so  many  things  that  are  true, 
and  affirmation  of  so  many  things  that  are  false ;  its  un¬ 
spirituality  and  spiritism  ;  its  no  faith  in  the  Old  Testament, 
and  interest  in  the  Mormon  Bible  and  the  Spiritual 
Telegraph.* 


*  “  I  bear  my  cotemporaries  boast  of  the  enlightened  age  they  live  in.  I  do 
not  find  this  light.  To  me  it  seems  that  we  state  our  problems  somewhat  more 
distinctly  than  heretofore.  I  do  not  find  that  we  solve  them.  We  are  very  lumi¬ 
nous  in  our  doubts.  Never,  I  think,  since  the  world  began,  was  so  wide  a  pros¬ 
pect  of  lucid  perplexity  laid  open  to  the  speculative  mind.  We  walk  our  laby¬ 
rinth  in  clear  day,  but  we  don’t  get  out  of  it.  Society  and  Religion  lie  dissected 
before  us.  We  analyze,  detect,  repudiate;  we  rush  back  and  gather  up  the  frag¬ 
ments  of  what  a  moment  before  we  had  torn  in  pieces.  We  embrace  again  the 
old  form  and  the  old  creeds,  and  we  embrace  them  at  the  last,  perhaps,  with  as 
much  of  despair  as  of  hope.” — Thorndale,  on  Conflict  of  Opinions ,  page  18. 


28 


Nobody  acquainted  with  that  portion  of  the  modern  liter¬ 
ature  of  all  nations  which  indicates  the  inwrard  yearnings  of 
our  instant  humanity,  can  fail  to  acknowledge  the  omni¬ 
presence  of  a  dissatisfied,  expectant,  and  thoroughly  be¬ 
wildered,  spirit.  The  cultivated  mind  of  the  rising  genera¬ 
tion,  wdiether  in  England  or  America — that  of  the  young 
men  and  women  who  will  help  largely  to  form  the  next 
age — is  not  so  much  aggressive  or  progressive  as  in  a 
painful  equipoise  which  forbids  healthful  motion — melan¬ 
cholic,  sad,  astray  or  afloat.  What  Lamartine  says  so  well 
of  one  of  his  characters,  “  II  fut  ne  fatigue,”  may  be  said 
of  the  most  intellectual  and  spiritual  portion  of  our  youth 
of  both  sexes.  The  inherited  thought  of  a  Protestant  epoch 
of  three  centuries’  duration,  is  born  tired,  in  the  meditative 
mind  of  our  generation.  As  a  necessity  of  this  state  of 
things,  the  Protestant  Church  has  lost  its  hold  of  the  two 
ends  of  society — the  cultivated  and  the  uncultivated  end — 
of  the  head,  because  it  is  under  the  dominion  of  paralyzing 
ideas,  which  leave  faith  a  fiction  and  worship  a  mockery  ; 
of  the  foot,  because  it  is  no  longer  controlled  by  that  author¬ 
ity  which  a  living  and  satisfied  faith  can  alone  put  into  the 
wills  and  into  the  actions  of  the  governing  classes.  The  in¬ 
fidelity  of  our  age  is  not  commonly  an  insolent,  self-satisfied, 
flippant  criticism  of  evidences,  or  a  sour  and  bitter  assault 
upon  Christianity,  although  we  still  have  that.  It  is,  in  the 
cultivated  classes — and  with  frightful  frequency  there — a 
silent,  thoughtful,  sad  consciousness  that  the  soul  has  no 
faith,  and  possesses  no  religion  except  the  religions  senti¬ 
ment,  and  knows  no  God  and  no  Saviour — with  a  tender 
reserve  toward  others,  a  gentle  unwillingness  to  bring  into 
their  own  condition  those  in  whom  faith  still  has  any  exist- 


29 


ence.  And  in  the  uncultivated  classes,  it  is  a  loss  for  the 
time  being,  in  the  absorbing  interest  of  life  itself,  enriched 
with  the  emancipated  rights  and  opportunities  which  this 
self-asserting  epoch  has  given  to  the  masses — of  any  sense 
of  a  need  of  religion,  with  a  decay  of  the  affections,  in¬ 
stincts,  and  usages  connected  with  it — a  state  frightful  to 
consider — not  in  its  immediate,  but  only  in  its  coming 
social  consequences ! 

Meanwhile,  into  the  empty  crypts  and  chapels  of  the 
human  mind  have  rushed,  as  by  the  attraction  of  a  vacuum, 
the  succedaneums  and  lieutenancies  of  Worship  and  Faith. 
The  instructed  and  thoughtful  have  attempted  to  revive  the 
worship  of  Nature  ;  while  demonology  and  witchcraft  have 
amused  the  supernatural  instincts  of  the  people  at  large. 
The  microscope  and  the  refracting  mirror  have  become  the 
chief  windows  of  the  soul  for  the  educated,  whose  only 
spiritual  world,  it  would  often  seem,  now  lies  in  the  inter¬ 
stices  of  the  physical  laws  of  the  universe  ;  wThile  the  people 
have  been  bowing  down  to  patent  reapers  and  sewing- 
machines,  the  daguerreotype  and  the  stereoscope,  trance 
mediums  and  homoeopathic  miracles — and  both  classes  have 
made  hero-worship — whether  of  a  horse-tamer  or  a  chess- 
conqueror — the  unconscious  indulgence  of  their  disused 
and  suffering  organs  of  veneration  and  faith. 

It  is  not  strange  in  a  state  of  things  so  humiliating,  so 
unsatisfactory,  so  wearisome  for  thoughtful  spirits  as  this — 
so  alarming,  too,  if  alarm  were  not  impious  as  a  conclusion, 
for  lovers  of  their  race  and  their  country — that  questful  in¬ 
quiries  should  be  made  of  the  past,  of  philosophy,  of  expe¬ 
rience,  of  the  soul  itself,  as  to  the  probable  issue  of  this 
epoch.  Nor  is  it  to  be  at  all  wondered  at,  that  so  many, 


30 


by  either  positive  or  negative  consent,  should  be  now 
acknowledging  a  longing  for  a  revival  of  the  ages  of  Faith. 
Many,  already,  of  the  ablest  heads  and  strongest  hearts  of 
the  time,  not  chargeable,  certainly,  with  ignorance  of 
science,  history,  or  philosophy,  like  Newman  abroad,  and 
Brownson  at  home,  have  gone  boldly  and  bravely  back 
into  the  Catholic  Church,  and  with  them  hundreds  of  the 
worshipful,  tender,  and  thoughtful  young  men  and  women 
of  Protestant  Christendom.  Without  understanding  their 
necessity  or  their  solace,  I  confess,  for  one,  I  value  the 
costly  testimony  which  such  a  course  has  given  to  the 
worth  of  the  fundamental  idea  of  Catholicism,  in  a  time 
when  puritanical  prejudices  and  terrestrialism  combine  to 
confound  the  superstitious  and  accidental  usages  and  cus¬ 
toms  of  the  Catholic  Church,  with  its  essential  idea,  and  so 
to  blind  the  Protestant  wTorld  to  its  own  interest  in  the  other 
and  larger  half  of  its  integral  history. 

Protestantism — for  I  will  not  say,  the  Protestant  Church 
— stands,  and  nobly  stands,  for  human  rights — for  man 
as  against  rulers,  kings,  institutions,  ignorance,  want,  vice, 
sloth ;  stands  for  morality — which  is  good  usage  and  wise 
custom,  for  citizenship,  individuality,  faculty,  will  and 
knowledge.  The  Catholic  Church  stood  for  revelation, 
for  God  condescending,  for  supernaturalism,  for  bread 
from  heaven,  for  the  authority,  the  support,  and  the 
benediction  of  living  and  divine  persons,  outside  of  hu¬ 
manity  and  above  it.  As  such,  independently  of  its  his¬ 
torical  identification  with  Christianity,  Pomanism  had 
a  sacred  and  indefeasible  right  in  the  history  of  humanity. 
It  represented  God  coming  to  man — as  Protestantism  rep¬ 
resents  man  coming  to  himself — and  then,  perchance, 


l 


31 


and  perchance  not,  going  to  the  Father  who  comes  to 
meet  him.  The  Church,  in  every  heathen  age,  has  been 
some  rude  but  potent  organization  of  the  idea  of  God 
brooding  over  and  descending  upon  his  children  ;  the 
natural  priesthood  of  the  world,  having  been  the  spirits,  in 
whom,  however  crudely,  the  sense  of  God  overpowered 
the  sense  of  themselves.  What  the  natural  religions  of 
the  world  thus  preluded  and  typified,  the  positive  re¬ 
ligions  of  history  have  distinctly  articulated  and  ful¬ 
filled.  The  Christian  Church,  in  its  earlier  ages,  did  not 
embody,  nor  did  it  most  need  to  embody,  the  morality 
of  Christ ;  for  at  our  time  of  day,  morality  is  the  neces¬ 
sary  product  of  knowledge,  which,  in  emancipating  the 
individual,  and  all  individuals,  gradually  makes  order, 
decency — in  short,  morality,  the  only  possible  condition 
■under  which  human  beings  can  live  together — which  is 
a  sufficient  account  of  the  tang  of  worldliness  and  in¬ 
adequacy  which  disflavors  the  phrase  Morality.  Morality, 
though  a  slow  growth,  is  a  sure  one,  and  follows  in  the 
wake  of  education  and  freedom — matching  precisely  the 
political  and  civil  condition  of  every  community. 

But  the  Christian  Church,  embodied  and  represented 
what  is  no  growth  of  civilization,  and  what  is  indepen¬ 
dent  of  ages  and  grades  of  culture — the  doctrine  and 
presence  of  the  Holy  Ghost — the  descent  of  God  into  the 
world,  the  gift  of  himself  to  his  children  as  the  jpleroma 
— the  only  fullness  for  the  infinite  emptiness  of  the  hu¬ 
man  soul.  It  represented,  in  short,  what  alone  is  entitled 
to  be  called  religion — the  bond  and  contract  between  God 
and  man — in  which  the  superior  party  is  God  fulfilling  his 
promise,  not  man  observing  his  obligation.  In  natures, 


32 


\ 


whose  constitutional  individuality  had  been  sufficiently 
secured  by  a  high  organization,  or  by  propitious  cir¬ 
cumstances,  the  Catholic  Church,  by  the  supply  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  which  it  furnished,  and  the  lively  faith  it 
communicated,  worked  those  miracles  of  saintly  character, 
artistic  beauty,  and  divine  poetry,  which  include,  as  their 
after-birth,  even  the  great  ornaments  of  the  age  im¬ 
mediately  succeeding  the  Reformation.  But  it  is  equally 
true,  that  the  masses,  though  immensely  and  benignantly 
supported,  emancipated  and  elevated  by  the  earlier  ages 
of  the  Church,  were  in  the  deepest  need  of  the  centrifugal 
movement,  which  wre  call  Protestantism,  when  it  came — or, 
rather,  when  their  want  of  it  produced  the  reaction  which 
was  its  final  cause.  For  the  Church  had  absorbed  the 
world ;  the  divine  had  overflowed  the  shallow  channel  of 
humanity,  and  it  needed  to  be  deepened  even  at  the 
expense  of  becoming  temporarily  dry,  that  it  might  hold 
larger  measures  from  the  river  of  God. 

o 

The  particular,  the  general,  the  universal  reason  for 
the  suspense  of  faith,  we  have  now  successively  set  forth. 
It  remains  only,  in  conclusion,  to  look  at  the  form  in 
which  we  may  hope  that  faith  will  rally  and  go  on.  And 
this  brings  us  face  to  face,  at  last,  wfith  what  wre  have 
been  secretly  envisaging  all  the  time,  the  Church  question, 
which  is  the  real  question  of  the  earnest,  religious  thought 
of  the  time,  and  agitates  itself  and  us,  under  all  sorts  of  dis¬ 
guises.  Many,  indeed,  are  striving,  with  all  their  might,  to 
prove  that  there  is  no  such  question ;  that  we  have  got  by 
it ;  that  it  is  treason  to  the  nineteenth  century,  to  human- 


33 


ity,  and  to  the  future,  to  allow  any  reality  in  it ;  that  only 
priest-craft  and  quackery  give  it  a  seeming  importance  for 
their  own  ends ;  that  the  world  is  going  on  well  enough 
upon  its  present  tack,  and  wants  only  more  of  what  it  has 
already  got  so  much.  But  these  encouraging  skeptics  cry 
Peace,  peace,  when  there  is  no  peace.  The  Church  ques¬ 
tion  is  a  real  question  in  all  Protestant  countries — most  so 
in  Germany,  in  England,  in  America ; — and  it  must  be  met 
and  discussed  with  a  courage  which  it  does  not  yet  find  out¬ 
side  of  the  innermost  circles  of  confidential  scholarship,  and 
the  private  communion  of  hungering  hearts. 

Who  does  not  see  that  the  fatal  misgiving  at  the  bottom 
of  the  mind  of  Protestantism  is  this — Have  the  external  insti¬ 
tutions  of  religion  any  authority  but  expediency  ?  do  they 
stand  for  and  represent  any  thing  but  one  portion  of  the 
human  race  educating  another  portion  of  the  human  race, 
which,  in  the  last  analysis,  is  self-culture?  And  if  they  stand 
only  for  self-culture,  on  what  other  basis  do  they  stand  than 
schools  and  colleges?  Hone  whatever,  the  logical  mind 
will  answer,  except  that  they  are  religious  schools  and  col¬ 
leges.  Make  your  ordinary  schools  and  colleges,  your 
family  education,  religious ,  and  you  may  dispense  with  the 
Church,  which  has  no  basis  but  expediency,  and  is  founded 
wholly  in  man’s  wit.  Accordingly,  it  is  a  very  common 
and  spreading  feeling,  that  our  religious  institutions  are  ap¬ 
proaching  their  natural  term  of  existence.  I  know,  by  per¬ 
sonal  conference  wfith  some  of  the  most  living  minds  of  Italy 
and  Germany,  that  patriotism  is  fast  getting  to  be  the  only 
religion  of  the  upper  classes,  and  while  their  ritual  is  music 
and  revolution,  their  immortality  is  to  die  for  fatherland. 
And  why  not,  if  religion  means  only  human  development 
3 


34 


and  self-perfection  ?  What  furnishes  these,  is  the  highest  in¬ 
terest  of  society  and  man  ;  and  if  the  school  does  it  better 
than  the  Church,  the  school  ought  to,  and  will,  supersede 
the  Church,  as,  indeed,  it  already  occasionally  has  done 
in  what  are  thought  to  be  very  advanced  neighborhoods 
of  this  country.  But  the  Protestant  of  a  less  uncompromis¬ 
ing  kind,  may  reply,  You  overlook  the  fact  that  Christian¬ 
ity  is  a  positive  revelation  of  truth  and  duty,  and  that  the 
Church,  having  to  embody  this  revelation,  has  an  excuse 
and  a  reason,  nay,  a  necessity  for  existing.  But  suppose 
he  is  asked,  Has  not  this  revelation  emptied  its  contents 
into  human  reason,  into  history  and  civilization,  until  the 
Gospel  of  Christ  is  so  mixed  with  the  moral  and  spiritual 
life  of  society,  that  philosophy  and  practical  wisdom,  nay, 
that  Society  itself,  is  wiser  than  the  Church?  What  special 
or  exclusive  custody  of  the  Gospel  given  to  the  world  has 
the  Church  ?  and  if  we  have  the  Gospel,  what  want  we  of 
the  Church  ?  I  know  no  answer  to  this  question,  if  the  Gos¬ 
pel  mean  only  or  chiefly  what  it  now  passes  for  with  most 
noble  spirits,  a  mere  revelation  of  truth.  It  is  more.  It  is  a 
gift  of  life,  or  communication  of  power,  which  is  continuous, 
its  force  and  virtue  always  residing  in  its  living  fountain, 
making  the  Church,  through  which  it  is  given,  not  a  mere 
reservoir  that  may  be  emptied,  but  a  permanent  conduit,  or 
channel,  through  which  flows  down  the  eternal  river  of 
God.  But  is  the  Church,  in  fact,  such  a  channel,  supposing 
even  that  the  fountain  be  alive  and  flowing,  that  God  be 
really  immanent,  communicating  a  force  not  merely  in  but 
to  our  souls  through  His  Gospel  and  by  His  Son  ?  Is  not 
society  itself  now,  in  its  total  organization,  the  vehicle 
through  which  the  consciousness  of  God,  opened  by  Christ, 


35 


reveals  itself  to,  and  nourishes  and  makes  divine,  the  life 
and  heart  of  man  ?  In  short,  is  not  that  invisible  Church, 
which,  without  noise  of  hammer  or  saw,  secretly  builds  itself 
up  in  the  spiritual  life  of  humanity,  far  more  real,  life-giving, 
and  sustaining,  than  the  visible  Church,  which  the  extant 
religious  institutions  of  Christendom  claim  to  be?  The 
query  is  plausible,  and  is  proposed  by  noble  men  among  us. 
But  has  it  only  an  affirmative  answer  ?  Far  be  it  from  me  to 
deny  that  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  an  extent  seldom  appreciated, 
that  God  himself,  to  a  degree  infinitely  beyond  any  ordinary 
or  possible  recognition,  that  Christ,  in  these  latter  ages,  in 
an  immeasurable  sum,  is  the  secret  life  of  humanity.  Were 
there  not  a  vast  deal  more  of  God,  and  Christ,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost  in  the  world  than  the  world  knows  of,  or  thinks  for, 
wTe  should  go  to  ruin  swiftly  indeed.  But  I  am  persuaded 
that  we  have,  as  social  and  terrestrial  beings  living  in  defin¬ 
ite  historical  relations,  a  great  deal  more  of  obligation  to 
the  visible  than  to  the  invisible  Church.  The  invisible 
Church  takes  due  care  of  itself  and  of  us;  the  visible 
Church  is  committed  to  our  hands.  I  do  not  say  that  the 
visible  is  as  important  as  the  invisible,  or  as  great  in  its  in¬ 
fluence,  but  only  that  it  is  our  charge,  because,  of  the  two, 
it  alone  is  within  our  voluntary  reach.  Moreover,  I  am 
convinced,  that,  in  accordance  with  the  whole  analogies 
of  Providence,  every  radically  important  relationship  of 
humanity  is,  and  must  be,  embodied  in  an  external  institu¬ 
tion  ;  the  relation  of  the  exclusive  affections  in  the  family, 
the  social  relations  in  society,  the  political  in  the  state,  the 
religious  in  the  Church. 

I  am  well  enough  aware  that  the  ennXeota  of  the  Scrip¬ 
tures  is  the  collection  or  congregation  of  the  the 


36 


called.  But  it  is  only  an  illustration  of  the  common  rule 
governing  our  humanity  in  all  things,  that  the  collection 
or  calling  together  of  human  beings  in  any  one  of  their 
radical  relationships,  or  about  any  one  of  their  essential 
needs  or  aspirations,  develops  at  once  something  which 
none  of  the  individual  parties  could  have  predicted  or 
anticipated,  or  in  himself  possessed — a  pre-ordained  conse¬ 
quent  of  relationship  —  a  “ tertium  quid”  which  is  very 
different  from  any  of  the  elements  of  which  it  is  composed. 
Thus  Man  is  a  domestic,  a  social,  a  political,  an  ecclesias¬ 
tical  being ;  but  it  is  absurd  to  say  that  any  individual 
man  is  this,  each  one  of  these  things,  the  family,  society, 
the  State,  the  Church,  being  impossible  to  an  isolated 
being,  and  even  inconceivable  until  it  has  been  experienced 
as  the  fruit  of  a  community  of  life.  There  is  a  Church  in 
humanity,  as  there  is  a  family  state,  a  social  state,  and  a 
political  state — a  Church  which  has  always  been  devel¬ 
oped,  and  has  been  the  principal  source  of  the  religious 
life  of  humanity.  Christianity  takes  advantage  of  a  pre¬ 
viously  existent  institution,  which  was  not  simply  Jewish, 
but  human,  when  she  pours  her  life  through  the  Church. 
This  is  the  reason  why  Christ  established  his  Church,  but 
not  the  Church ;  and  why  so  little  of  the  thought  and  in¬ 
spiration  of  our  Lord  is  used  to  re-construct  an  institution 
already  organized,  through  which  his  spirit  was  to  flow ; 
but  that  spirit  was  no  less  shut  up  in  an  institution  and  an 
organization  than  is  the  family,  differing  by  various  shades 
and  usages  as  that  does,  but  always  tending  to  its  pure  and 
holy  type  of  strict  monogamy ;  or  than  the  State  is,  or 
than  society  is. 

Would  that  I  could  develop  here,  at  a  time  so  forgetful 


37 


and  reckless  of  the  dependence  of  society  on  organization, 
the  doctrine  of  institutions ,  the  only  instruments,  except 
literature  and  the  blood,  by  which  the  riches  of  ages,  the 
experience  and  wisdom  of  humanity,  are  handed  down  ;  in¬ 
stitutions  the  only  constant  and  adequate  teachers  of  the 
masses,  and  which  are  to  the  average  mind  all  that  honor, 
conscience  and  intellect  are  to  exceptional  men  and  women. 
But  I  forbear. 

Christianity,  nothing  until  an  institution,  seized  the 
Church  as  the  pre-established  channel  and  organ  of  her 
influence  and  transmission,  the  conduit  of  her  living  water, 
the  vehicle  of  her  Holy  Spirit ;  she  put  her  own  external 
marks  upon  it,  as  well  as  her  own  interior  life  into  it,  and 
has  at  length  made  the  Church  to  mean  her  Church,  as 
the  Bible  has  come  to  mean  her  sacred  books.  All  sacred 
books  predicted  the  Bible,  which  has  summed  them  up, 
and  dismissed  them  from  duty ;  and  the  Church  in  the  wil¬ 
derness  predicted  the  Church  in  Christian  civilization 
which  should  publish  the  eternal  Word.  Thus  the  Church 
is  neither  new  nor  old,  neither  fixed  nor  transitional ;  it  is 
simply  living,  and,  therefore,  like  the  family  and  the  State, 
is  costumed  and  uncostumed,  is  cold,  is  warm,  is  recog¬ 
nized,  is  unrecognized,  is  Homan,  Greek,  English,  Ameri¬ 
can,  but  always  the  Church,  the  organic,  external  vehicle 
of  God’s  Word  and  the  Holy  Spirit  to  aggregate  or  congre¬ 
gate  humanity.  The  individual  can  join  the  Church  only 
in  his  capacity  of  a  member  of  the  human  race.  It  is  his 
humanity,  or  oneness  with  and  dependence  upon  his  race, 
that  makes  him  eligible  to  Church  membership,  as  it  is  his 
relationship  to  his  kind  that  alone  makes  the  bond  of  the 


38 


family,  of  society,  or  of  tlie  State,  and  existence  in  them 
possible  to  him. 

The  common  consciousness  of  God,  which  is  the  Gospel, 
none  partake  who  wilfully  cut  themselves  off  from  the 
body  of  Christ.  It  is  therefore  a  fact  (and  anybody  may 
see  it  who  reads  the  recent  letter  to  his  congregation  of  the 
gifted  lieresiarch  of  this  neighborhood,  the  ultimator  of 
Protestant  negations)  that  hostility  to  the  Church  is 
fatal  to  the  memory  of  the  spirit  of  Christ  once  possessed, 
much  more  to  the  attainment  of  it ;  that  the  unction  of  the 
Holy  one  is  lost  even  by  those  unconscious  of  their  misfor¬ 
tune,  in  this  only  possible  form  of  concision. 

In  his  individual  capacity,  as  an  inorganic,  unrelated, 
independent  being,  a  man  has  not,  and  cannot  have,  the 
affections,  internal  experiences  and  dispositions,  or  the 
powers  and  blessings,  which  we  can,  and  may,  and  will  re¬ 
ceive  in  his  corporate  capacity — in  either  or  any  of  the 
great  departments  of  his  Humanity,  the  family,  the  State, 
the  Church.  Nor  is  there  any  complete  and  satisfactory, 
perhaps  no  real  way,  to  come  into  this  corporate  capacity, 
except  through  a  publicly  recognized  and  legitimate  organ¬ 
ization,  whether  domestic,  political,  or  religious.  “  The 
powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God’’ ; — the  laws  governing 
the  family  order,  are,  in  each  country  for  the  time,  divinely 
empowered,  to  shield  what  society  did  not  make  and  cannot 
unmake  ;  and  the  Historical  Church  for  the  time  being,  and 
the  place  in  which  it  organizes  the  Word  of  God,  and  in¬ 
stitutes  the  channel  of  divine  grace,  is  a  divine  institution, 
connection  with  which  is  the  normal,  not  the  only,  condition 
of  salvation.  I  am  not  to  be  driven  from  this  ground  by 
arguments  drawn  from  the  number  and  variety  of  churches, 


39 


or  the  profitless  character  of  many  of  them,  or  their  often 
imperfect  and  miserable  administration  ;  any  more  than  the 
unhappy  marriages,  or  the  wretched  laws  applicable  to 
them,  should  drive  me  from  my  reverence  for  the  family, 
as  a  divine  institution  and  order.  I  recognize  the  fact  that 
in  all  Christian  countries  the  main  channel  of  the  religious 
life  of  the  people  is  an  external  organization.  I  know  that 
the  whole  Gospel  cannot  be  taught  to  individuals  as  indi¬ 
viduals.  I  believe  that  the  Holy  Spirit  communicates  with 
Humanity,  and  not  with  private  persons.  God  speaks  to 
men,  individual  men,  through  their  consciences ;  but  the 
Holy  Spirit  is  God  coming  into  the  world  through  his 
Word,  a  living  Word,  but  still  a  word,  a  spoken,  taught, 
published  word,  which  is  neither  communicated  to  indi¬ 
viduals,  nor  from  individuals,  but  from  the  Church  to 
Humanity.  This  doctrine  does  not  deny  open  relations  be¬ 
tween  individual  men  and  their  Maker ;  does  not  deny 
spiritual  influences  to  private  souls  ;  but  it  denies  that  the 
Holy  Ghost  is  to  be  confounded  with  these  private  whis¬ 
pers,  or  that  the  religious  life  of  the  world  is  mainly  due  to 
these  independent  and  inorganic  suggestions. 

“Ho  prophecy  is  of  any  private  interpretation.”  That 
view  of  Christianity  which  makes  it  the  magnificent  out- 
birth  of  a  great  private  individual,  the  Galilean  peasant, 
saint,  philosopher,  and  seer ;  or  of  the  Gospel  which  makes 
it  a  business  between  one  private  man,  namely,  one’s-self, 
and  another  private  man,  Jesus  Christ ;  or  of  religion  which, 
leaving  out  the  bond  which  is  the  Church,  makes  it  a  mat¬ 
ter  between  a  man  and  his  God  ;  or  of  the  Church  which 
establishes  it  fundamentally  in  the  personal  experience  and 
worth  of  every  good  man,  is  a  view  false  to  the  constitution 


40 


of  humanity,  the  conditions  of  man’s  historic  existence  and 
development,  a  profound  psychological,  or  a  wide  practical 
analysis — false  to  the  wants,  experiences,  instincts,  and  im¬ 
aginations  of  men.  It  is  the  cause  and  consequence,  the 
consequence  and  cause,  of  the  disintegrating  ideas  and 
usages  which  are  now  creating  the  injurious  and  unsatis¬ 
factory  aspects  of  our  Christian  civilization — and  as  such,  I 
have  now,  in  conscious  infirmity,  and  with  an  appalling 
sense  of  crudity  and  blindness,  excusable  only  because  the 
age  is  crude  and  groping,  attempted  to  set  forth  the  princi¬ 
pal  grounds  of  it. 

What,  then,  have  we  to  do,  waiting  on  God’s  help,  to  re¬ 
animate  the  Church,  but  heartily  to  recognize  the  existing 
religious  institutions  of  Christendom  as  the  chosen  channel 
through  which  the  divine  Word  is  seeking  to  descend  into 
Humanity  and  the  world  ?  Do  you  ask  whether,  upon  the 
theory  that  the  Church  contains  the  power  of  God,  and  is  a 
channel  of  influences  independent  of  human  wfll,  we  have 
any  ability  to  increase  or  diminish  its  contribution?  or  wheth¬ 
er  our  recognition  of  its  presence  and  working  can  touch  its 
efficacy  ?  I  reply,  that  whatever  else  we  know  not,  we  may 
safely  assume  to  know  this,  that  no  view  of  God’s  agency, 
or  Christ’s,  or  the  Holy  Ghost’s,  which  sets  aside  human 
responsibility,  or  ignores  human  will,  or  makes  the  action 
of  any  of  them  independent  of  the  mental,  moral,  and  spir¬ 
itual  organization  of  humanity,  which  they  are  aiming  to 
bless  and  save,  can  be  a  sound  or  true  view.  You  might 
as  well  attempt  to  disconnect  the  freedom  of  the  arm  that 
moves  the  organ  barrel  from  the  previously  arranged  teeth, 
and  springs,  and  pipes  of  the  organ  itself,  or  the  freedom  of 
the  stream  from  the  configuration  of  the  banks  that  make  the 


41 


$ 


river,  as  disconnect  man’s  freedom  and  responsibility  from 
God’s  freedom  and  help.  A  revelation  comes  only  to  a 
being  made  to  receive  and  capable  of  receiving  revelations ; 
the  Holy  Ghost  comes  only  to  a  being  made  to  receive  and 
capable  of  receiving  the  Holy  Ghost ;  the  Church  exists, 
and  is  designed  for  a  being  fitted  to  receive  spiritual  life 
and  salvation  through  a  Church,  and  his  fitness  lies  in  his 
having  faculties  and  powers  corresponding  to,  not  in  any 
degree  identical  with,  the  faculties  and  powers  of  the  Being 
wdio  makes  revelations,  sends  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  animates 
the  Church.  The  seed  has  relations  to  the  sun,  and  it  must 
germinate  in  the  dark,  and  press  up  to  the  surface,  before 
it  can  receive  the  direct  beams  of  its  God.  There  are  facul- 
ties  in  man  that  must  lay  hold  on  God,  as  there  are  powers 
in  God  that  will  lay  hold  on  man  ;  the  initiation  is  to  be 
taken  now  by  one,  now  by  the  other — but  any  theory  of 
the  Church,  or  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  which  violates,  paralyzes, 
or  in  any  way  disparages  the  activity  and  responsibility  of 
man’s  own  will  in  seeking  God,  is  false  to  human  nature 
and  to  God. 

Meanwhile,  the  Church,  as  a  divine  and  specific  institu¬ 
tion,  having  the  stewardship  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  the  dis¬ 
pensation  of  the  Word  of  God,  is  to  be  maintained  and  up¬ 
held  in  its  external  form  as  a  separate  and  distinct,  a  preci¬ 
ous  and  indispensable  interest  of  humanity.  All  the  ten¬ 
dencies  to  merge  it  in  other  interests  and  organizations,  to 
break  down  the  barriers  that  define  its  sphere,  to  extin¬ 
guish  the  lineaments  of  its  supernatural  origin  and  super¬ 
human  functions,  to  secularize  (I  do  not  say  to  liberalize)  its 
sacred  day,  to  empty  its  rites  and  forms  of  mystic  signifi¬ 
cance,  to  rationalize  its  teachings,  are  to  be  resisted.  The 


t 


42 

Church  is  to  be  content  with  its  religious  function  and  office. 
It  is  not  the  source  and  vehicle  of  the  general  culture  of  so¬ 
ciety  ;  it  is  not  the  guide  and  critic  of  science,  and  art,  and 
social  progress.  These  precious  interests  have  other  pro¬ 
tectors  and  inspirers.  Let  science  and  philosophy,  the 
schools  and  the  journals,  the  critics  and  the  social  reformers, 
fulfil  their  own  high  and  important  tasks.  The  Church 
would  be  blind  to  her  own  interests,  not  to  rejoice  in,  and  to 
bless  their  exertions,  and  to  pray  for  their  success.  But  she 
has  her  own  peculiar  and  precious  work  to  do,  her  own  sacred 
department  to  fill,  which  cannot  be  administered  with  the 
highest  success  in  commixture  or  in  partnership  with  other 
important  offices.  States  of  society  may  arise  in  which  all 
institutions,  organizations,  and  offices  are  temporarily  con¬ 
founded,  compelled  to  interchange  functions  and  function¬ 
aries  ; — as,  in  a  fire,  or  a  shipwreck,  or  a  wilderness,  age, 
sex,  grade,  decorum,  order,  and  usage,  are  necessarily  and 
usefully  forgotten  and  superseded.  But  as  nobody  can  de¬ 
sire  to  return  to  that  semi-barbaric  condition  in  which  our 
American  pioneers  lived,  when  one  and  the  same  room 
served  as  hall,  kitchen,  parlor,  and  bed-chamber  for  the 
household  and  its  guests — although,  no  doubt,  that  compact 
and  versatile  style  of  housekeeping  had  its  charm  and  its 
disciplinary  influences — so  we  are  not  wise  nor  considerate 
of  the  laws  and  wants  of  our  nature,  when  we  seek  to  level 
its  great  partitions,  and  to  confound  the  professions  and  in¬ 
stitutions  auxiliary  to  them.  It  was  a  great  convenience  in 
our  early  New  England  life  to  have  what  was  called  a 
meeting-house,  to  serve  as  church,  town-hall,  concert-room, 
and  exchange,  in  which,  perhaps,  a  fire-engine  shed  stood 
at  one  corner,  a  gun-room  at  another,  and  a  hearse-house  at 


43 


a  third ;  and  it  may  have  been  economical,  at  a  later  era, 
to  occupy  the  cellars  of  our  city  churches  for  storage  of 
spirits  and  molasses ;  but  nobody  who  has  considered  the 
law  of  association  can  regard  such  a  state  of  things  as  one 
to  be  cherished,  however  it  might  be  tolerated. 

That  alleged  superiority  to  prejudices  which  would 
dance  in  a  church,  or  worship  in  a  theatre,  play  cards  on  a 
Sunday,  or  end  the  ball  with  a  benediction,  preach  and 
pray  in  the  striped  costume  of  a  harlequin,  or  invite  a 
promiscuous  company  in  the  midst  of  jollity  to  unite  in 
prayer — is  a  coarse  trampling  upon  the  delicate  perceptions 
ot  fitness,  a  rude  obliteration  of  the  nicer  distinctions  of 
human  feeling — which,  if  carried  out,  would  end  in  bar¬ 
barizing  humanity.  The  author  of  “The  Roman  Question” 
wittily  complains  of  the  Pontifical  rule,  that  under  it  “  one 
sole,  identical  caste  possesses  the  right  of  administering  both 
sacraments  and  provinces,  of  confirming  little  boys  and  the 
judgments  of  the  lower  courts,  of  despatching  parting  souls 
and  captains’  commissions.”  The  transcendental  philosophy 
which  generalizes  away  all  diverse  concretes  into  monotonous 
abstractions,  and  delights  in  making  the  secular  and  the 
sacred,  the  right  and  the  wrong,  the  grave  and  the  gay,  the 
male  and  the  female,  the  world  and  the  Church,  the  human 
and  the  divine,  the  natural  and  the  supernatural,  one  and 
the  same,  pursues  the  exact  reverse  of  the  order  of  creation, 
which  is  a  steady  multiplication  of  distinctions,  a  growth 
of  diversity,  an  ascent  from  roots  into  branches,  twigs, 
flowers,  and  fruits.  The  alleged  simplification  of  our 
modern  medico-philosophic  theology,  is  a  simplicity  like 
that  which  might  unite  and  condense  family  life,  by  dis¬ 
missing  the  servants  and  burying  the  children. 


44 


Let  the  Church  feel  that  it  has  a  sphere  quite  as  im¬ 
portant  as  it  can  fill,  in  maintaining  the  worshipful  and 
God-fearing  affections — in  supplying  the  purely  religious 
wants  of  the  people.  I  would  have  it  undertake  less,  in 
order  to  do  more ;  it  would  exert  a  larger  influence  in  the 
end  by  confining  its  work  to  the  illumination  of  the  spirit¬ 
ual  interior,  the  communication  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

If  we  imagine  this  to  be  a  short,  a  vague,  a  monotonous 
work,  it  is  only  because  we  have  not  considered  that  the 
communication  of  the  contents  of  revelation,  the  supply  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  publishing  of  the  Word,  the  con¬ 
version,  regeneration,  and  sanctifying  of  the  souls  of  men, 
involves  the  perpetual  reproduction  of  Christ’s  life,  pre¬ 
cepts,  history,  and  spirit.  I  know  how  degenerate  a  sense 
of  Christianity  the  so-called  advanced  feeling  about  the 
Gospel  is.  The  words  of  the  Bible  pass  for  the  Word  of 
God,  which  that  Bible  is ;  the  words  of  Jesus,  for  Jesus 
himself — the  Word  that  came  down  from  heaven.  But 
God’s  Word  is  God’s  power,  God’s  Wisdom,  God’s  love 
made  known  in  the  great  language  of  natural  and  super¬ 
natural  events.  God  talks  in  creation,  in  history,  in  reve¬ 
lation.  Nations  are  his  alphabet,  epochs  his  syllables, 
humanity  his  discourse.  The  Bible  is  God’s  Word,  be¬ 
cause  it  is  the  record  of  his  dealings  with  nations  and  ages 
— the  religious  and  priestly  nations  and  ages.  More  es¬ 
pecially,  and  in  the  most  pregnant  and  peculiar  sense, 
Christ  is  the  Word  of  God  ;  not  what  he  said,  but  what  he 
was  and  did  and  suffered,  and  thus  showed  and  taught ; 
and  his  words  and  promises  and  precepts  are  only  part 
and  parcel  of  his  life  and  death,  his  resurrection,  and  per¬ 
petual  epiphany  in  the  Church.  Christ  must  be  formed  in 


45 


ns,  the  hope  of  glory.  God  speaks  peculiarly  and  savingly 
to  every  soul  in  whom  he  makes  Christ  live.  And  the 
work  of  the  Church  is  so  to  speak  to  the  world  in  the 
orotund  of  great  historic  incidents ;  so  to  preach  by  em¬ 
phasizing  the  commemorative  days,  and  illuminating  the 
holy  symbols — and  pausing  on  the  successive  events  which 
made  the  doctrines  of  Christianity — as  gradually  to  thun¬ 
der  into  the  deaf  ear  of  humanity  the  saving  lesson  of  the 
Gospel. 

~No  lecture-room  can  do  this ;  no  preaching-man  can  do 
this  ;  no  thin,  ghostly  individualism  or  meagre  Congregation¬ 
alism  can  do  this.  It  calls  for  the  organic,  instituted,  ritual¬ 
ized,  impersonal,  steady,  patient  work  of  the  Church — which, 
taking  infancy  into  its  arms,  shall  baptize  it,  not  as  a 
family  custom,  but  a  Church  sacrament ;  which  shall  speak 
to  the  growing  children  by  imaginative  symbols  and  holy 
festivals — and  not  merely  by  Sunday-school  lessons  and 
strawberry-feasts;  which  shall  confirm  them  and  take  them 
into  the  more  immediate  bosom  of  the  Church  as  they  at¬ 
tain  adult  years,  and  are  about  to  step  beyond  the  thresh¬ 
old  of  domestic  life ;  which  shall  make  both  marriage  and 
burial  rites  of  the  immediate  altar — and  give  back  to 
the  communion-service  the  mystic  sanctity  wdiicli  two  cen¬ 
turies  has  been  successfully  striving  to  dispel,  without 
gaining  by  this  rationality  any  thing  except  the  prospect  of 
its  extinction.  A  new  Catholic  Church — a  Church  in 
which  the  needed  but  painful  experience  of  Protestant¬ 
ism  shall  have  taught  us  how  to  maintain  a  dignified, 
symbolic,  and  mystic  church-organization  without  the  aid 
of  the  State,  or  the  authority  of  the  Pope — their  support 
being  now  supplied  by  the  clamorous  wTants  of  our  starved 


46 


imaginations  and  suppressed  devotional  instincts — this  is 
the  demand  of  the  weary,  unchurched  humanity  of  our 
era.  How  to  remove  the  various  obstacles,  how  to  inaugu¬ 
rate  the  various  steps  to  it — is  probably  more  than  any 
man’s  wisdom  is  adequate  to  direct  just  now.  But  to  ar¬ 
ticulate,  or  even  to  try  to  articulate  the  dumb  wants  of  the 
religious  times,  is  at  least  one  step  to  it.  It  is  a  cry  for 
help,  which  God  will  hear,  and  will  answer  by  some  new 
word  from  the  Holy  Ghost,  when  humanity  is  able  and 
willing  to  bear  it. 


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